


Our Thing

by secondsofhappiness



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 21:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17169548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondsofhappiness/pseuds/secondsofhappiness
Summary: Future Fic.Marti and Nico remember a night when the simple stuff just wasn’t possible.Aka sleeping next to each other is the loveliest





	Our Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Because everyone deserves this, especially two precious boys who broke our collective hearts 💙

Marti can hear the sound of the pipes rattling in the walls and he smiles, shuffling further down into his quilt, waiting.

Only a few minutes go by and his door is opened quietly, wood scraping carpet, to reveal a pyjama clad Nico. Marti watches him close the door with a click and as always, everything feels as it should.

“I’m back,” Nico whispers, grinning as he approaches the bed, his face in the glow of the lamp. “And in your clothes.”

Marti can see Nico’s eyebrow wiggle even with his eyes closed. He smiles into the duvet. “Get into bed, weirdo,” he says just as the lamp goes out, the mattress dips and cold fingers find his arm in the dark.

“I like wearing your clothes. They smell like you.”

And _they do_ but Nico wears them for one night and then they’re Marti’s, all sleep worn and like being cuddled by the only boy he ever wants close.

Even if he is bony and has cold fingers.

“Ni, you’re freezing,” he whispers in a rush as toes touch his own and he jolts.

“Warm me up then,” is the response and what did he expect? “You’re always warm. It’s nice.” It is nice. It’s all so nice. Nico belongs here even with his cold toes. From the way he’s snuggling close, curls ticking Marti’s chin and a long arm wrapping itself around Marti’s waist, it’s a night for proximity.

The way they sleep has become a method of understanding the state of things. Nose to nose, tangled together, side by side, holding hands, with a comfortable distance, they all signify something and it’s what they hold onto, the moments when they can slide under a duvet and let the comfort of being close do whatever it needs to. Marti knows the bad days always equal distance but it’s never too far, never apart. _Not anymore_.

“Your brain is loud tonight,” Nico whispers and Marti can’t help but snort a little in response. He feels Nico’s lips curl into a smile against his shoulder. “And yes I get the irony, asshole.”

Laughing, Marti shuffles onto his side, his nose finding Nico’s under sparkling dark eyes. “I was just thinking about how this is our thing.”

Nico smiles into the pillow then, his fingers inching under Marti’s tshirt at the hem. “We’re the best at sleeping. We should write a book.”

“I can’t write for shit,” Marti whispers, stomach fluttering at the giddy half grin from Nico, the one he loves so much and thankfully sees so often. “But we are the best.”

Nico is quiet then, the sound of trees moving outside the window and those rattling pipes filling the silence. It’s only when Marti shuffles a little closer and nudges Nico’s side that there’s a response, a pair of eyes so deep and dark that Marti can barely breathe. Before he can ask what’s wrong, what changed, Nico’s hand is at his cheek, gentle and cool. He draws lines against Marti’s skin and down to his neck.

“I just remembered a night when we couldn’t do this,” Nico says eventually, voice all in his throat in a way Marti can never handle. Nico is still now, hand lingering at Marti’s shoulder. “I wanted to so much. I fell asleep pretending you were there. Is that weird?”

It’s like the world zeros in on them sometimes. It’s happened before: in swimming pools, lake house corridors and hotel rooms and it’s when Marti _knows_. Really really _knows_.

“Not weird,” Marti says softly and he reaches, pulls, gathers as much of the boy in front of him as close as he can. It’s a tangle of limbs and bones and duvet until they fit together, Nico’s head on his chest, an arm looped firm around Nico’s shoulders and there’s a sigh. It’s long and deep and Marti smiles into messy dark curls. “I remember.”

Nico’s voice is low and vibrates against Marti’s chest. “I wanted you to know, to understand, to realise it was never you, never because of you that it was all so complicated.”

“I know.”

Nico looks up then, his chin tucked against the cotton of Marti’s tshirt. His smile is small but his eyes betray him as the water in them reflects prisms in the moonlight. “All I knew is that sleeping next to you felt like the kind of comfort I imagined when I closed my eyes so I wanted it all the time. I wanted you to have it too.”

Marti swallows hard, cuddles them together and and lets his fingers drag gently along the warming skin of Nico’s arms. “We do,” he says and laughs a little choked when Nico buries his head closer and with a kiss to Marti’s neck.

“I never take this for granted,” are the words Nico speaks into Marti’s chest and it’s such a promise of effort and love and gratitude that Marti’s heart beats steady and content into sleep.


End file.
